


Say Goodbye - Last Call Remix

by silentstephi



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentstephi/pseuds/silentstephi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Call came for Carver, he wanted to see his sister one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Goodbye - Last Call Remix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlmoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/gifts).



> A Remix of owlmoose's Last Call for the Remix Redux 11: The Eleventh Hour.
> 
> Thanks so much phdfan for beta reading and giving it a good once over. And thank you owlmoose for having some amazing fics!

After months on the road, and with the weight of dirt and horse sweat clogged in Carver’s nostrils, the fresh air of the forest made the Grey Warden almost feel alive again.  

He had rid himself of his mount at Lorestock.  The inn keeper‘s old nag was on her last legs; Carver’s durable gelding had been a welcome payment for a night’s rest and no questions asked.  He didn’t need a horse where he headed.  The gelding wouldn't have survived long underground.

He pushed a branch out of the way to spy a cottage, nestled against the side of Plymark Mountain.  It had taken some research and smooth talking to find her.  His sister had covered her tracks well.  The whispers at the corner of his every waking thought had made conversing with normal folk a challenge.

_An easy target, abandoned, no one to go to for help…_ The forest’s edge that Carver hid at lay hundreds of feet from the cottage.  Experience told him that the residents had ample time to see danger coming and prepare accordingly.  Carver knew his sister.  The rock side supported most of the structure.  There would be an escape into the mountain from the cottage.  He knew Marissa.  If not naturally, she would have made one.

For months now, intense darkspawn  dreams had come.  Hauntings of dead comrades, whispers of a Dark God flicking past conscious thought and on the tip of his tongue.  Sigrun saw the signs in him.  A tough Warden, that Sigrun.  Countless green horns and seasoned Wardens had made their own trips to the Deep Roads, never to return.  She’d outlasted many since her Joining at Amaranthine.  She had recognized what Carver feared.  He had tried ignoring it… but he had been getting more reckless with each encounter with darkspawn.

The twilight breeze stirred and his niece yelled at her brother from the garden.  An ache started in his chest as he watched them.  The life of a Grey Warden did not lead to much interaction with family.  He had no part in their lives.  Both children had their father’s coloring, but the girl had her mother’s dark hair.  They played with wooden swords, playing a game known only to the young.  He didn’t even know their names.

It reminded him of how much he missed Bethany.  The loss of his twin, these many years dead, hit him like a crashing wave.  Dead because he hadn’t been fast enough.  The ogre had been there, and Bethany had been so stupid to just stand up to it.  Mother coped by blaming Marissa, and for a long time, so did he.  But with age had come wisdom.  He knew now what the darkspawn truly were capable of, and it still surprised him that his sister, mother and Aveline had made it out alive at all.  All thanks to a bored dragon...

Dragons.  Darkspawn.  Mages.  Templars.  The whole damn world burned.  _Why fight it?_

Carver shook his head clear and realized that the sun had completely set.  The children were inside, and the smoke from the cook fire puffed up through the stove stack on the cottage.  His mouth watered at the smell of meat and fresh bread.  He wondered if his sister had finally settled into the life of a farmer.  The garden between the tree line and the clearing showed she had at least grown an ample green thumb.  

_How embarrassing it must be for the Champion of Kirkwall to return to the obscurity of a farmer_.   A soft, hearty laugh  on the wind banished his dark thoughts and he felt content at how happy Marissa sounded.  They both did.  The low chuckle, he could hear Fenris speaking.  The urge to creep up and look in the window to watch them almost overwhelmed him.  Carver gripped the tree tight to stop his forward motion and he melted back into the woods.

Maybe he should just go.  He could find another entrance to the Deep Roads.  He didn't want to disturb his sister’s happiness.  They hadn’t spoke since… well, since the fighting broke out in Kirkwall.  It had been years… their words had been heated.  Marissa wouldn't hold a grudge for this long, right?

_So many things have changed, and yet she’ll not forget what you said.  How can you think she’ll forgive you now?_  Years spent fighting darkspawn had dulled the pain.  Living day to day but had he really lived?  Commander after commander and fighting, always fighting.  He never grew attached, because anything could happen, and love, while possible in the ranks, lead to dangerous distraction.  But now, at the end of the line, what did he have to show for his life?

Crickets chirped and a rabbit scampered through his field of vision, interrupting his train of thought.  The sounds from the cottage had abated.  Carver needed connection.  He needed to feel that his life meant something.  He needed his family.

The door to the side of the cottage opened quietly and with little effort.  Inside it opened to a small kitchen.  Dishes dried on the side of the sink.  They had a working pump.  Magic.  His sister would only rough as much as needed.  It made him smile.  Just like home.  

No mabari to greet him.  That beast must have passed on ages ago.  Still, Carver missed the dog.  The chill of the night and the ache of the Call hit him again, so he let instinct guide him to the still burning fireplace.  He removed his gauntlets to rub frozen fingers into warmth at the flames.

A breathe of air brushed across the nape of his neck and Carver felt the shift in the room’s atmosphere.  Someone woke.  He glanced over his shoulder to see dark hair and eyes from the doorway of a bedroom.  Marissa wore a light night robe.  Her body had tensed, and Carver took the moment to look her over.  She had aged well.  She let her hair grow out.  She looked just like Mother.

“Carver, what are you doing here?”  Her voice pitched low as she gripped her robe closed.   It soothed his nerves that the house slept.  Less questions he’d have to answer.  As much as he wanted to talk to his sister’s flesh and blood, to have that connection.  Her future lived here.  Not his.

He stood and smiled.  “Hello, Sister.”  She looked at him, and he felt like a little boy again.  Just her little brother, her enormous shadow.  Dark thoughts wanted to resent that old wound, but he turned before she could see them surface.  

“What brings you here?  It’s been – how many years?”  She said as she moved closer. He could see the lines at her eyes, hear roughness creeping into her voice.  

His laugh felt harsh in his throat.  “Too many.  Especially since--“   He couldn’t bring himself to say it.  Something in her eyes stopped him, and looking into the flames of the hearth only drove the memory home.  A Chantry on fire, dying people screaming, mages going insane.  The force of it left him breathless.  “This is my last visit as I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Marissa’s breath caught and he felt the warmth of her hand on his shoulder.  “So it’s time?”

“Past time, really.”  Just admitting it made his stomach sink.  Out in the open, reality confronted him.  “I’ve been holding on, fighting the Call, mostly so I could get here and see you first.  There’s a Deep Roads entrance not far.  In the morning, I’ll … go.”  Lie.  He needed to leave.  Now.  The creeping darkness burned along his arm and shoulder at the weight of his sibling’s hand.  The entrance to the Deep Roads called to him.

His sister’s pained voice broke his reverie.   “Good luck.”  She squeezed his shoulder.  Always there to support him.  Always the strong one.

He looked up at her, their father’s eyes looking back.  “I’m sorry.”

Armor be damned as she pulled him into a hug and said, “I’m the one who should be sorry.”  

They’d spent decades apart and yet she still felt like family.  He kissed her forehead, and his nostrils filled with the scent of home.  Should he ask to stay until morning?  Meet the kids?  Say hi to Fenris?

“Don’t be,” he murmured.  The thoughts of comfort fled as his skin tightened.  The Call grew stronger in the presence of his conflicting emotions.  Duty called.  “Being a Warden makes for a short life, but it’s a good one.  Better than any other I could have  had, really.”  He squeezed her tight to hide the lie.  “I mean it.”

The cool night air felt like a shock of water as Carver marched his way to the Deep Roads, before she could ask any further questions.  Before she could see the pain.  Marissa’s words followed him into the quiet night.  “Good bye, little brother.”


End file.
